


Cactus Girls

by Crowsbait



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Lesbian Sex, Semi-explicit sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-11-07 06:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17955731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowsbait/pseuds/Crowsbait
Summary: Four times Sim asked to kiss Felicity and the one time she didn't have to





	1. It Worked For Me

I always knew. When I was introduced by the crew I was using to get closer to my goals, and I was called upon by Ebrahim to recite my jape like a trained monkey. I had seen her walk into the bar and had not looked up from my mug of spiced wine beyond a quick glance. I was eager to leave port again, the wheels in my mind spinning as I formulated our voyage and thought of how to get that damn map. I dragged my eyes up and away from my mug as I posited my opinion on the dirty, rank, dark city of London, and fixed them on the girl I was performing for. As our eyes met I felt something inside of me pull tight and I was glad to be done speaking, afraid I would be unable to formulate a sentence again.

It has been many days since, days spent in her company, posing as her maid. Nights spent curled up in bed with her, my arms itching to snake about her, to pull her close. I wonder if this is what people feel if they have a sister, but deep down I know it is more. I know that these feelings are better aligned with the feelings you have for a lover, and it scares me, but I am too determined to see this through.

I have finally found the damn letter that I have been searching for when that damn girl comes struggling into the room of her friend, bringing that damn dog with her. It seems as if fate has tied us too close together. While I have done plenty of snooping under her nose, it seems that she finds me at the most inopportune moments. I do not spare her for my feelings and automatically fly at her. It does not matter that she smacks me with slimy dog saliva, or that she gets half of the letter. I have already read it and know exactly what I will be doing next.

I again curse fate when I am in the basement of the Kunstkammer, so close to what I have desperately been searching for when I hear her. Stupid girl. She is as silent and subtle as a herd of elephants. We fight, gods we fight. We tussle and struggle and I will not be deterred, no matter my feelings or my opinion of my opponent, and the way she looks as I tackle her, chest heaving beneath her shirt. Despite my training, I cannot completely lose myself and treat her as an enemy, and that is my downfall. When I sprint away from Felicity and leave, I make it three steps before my treacherous body has me turning back to help her away from the imminent discovery of our burglary.

What follows is a haze as the poison from the broken vial works its way through my body. I am completely weak, like a newborn camel, unable to distinguish the shapes swirling in front of me and then... I black out. When I come too, hers is the first face I see. The happiness and relief that swell in my heart frighten me but I tease and goad her, my mind swimming with the effects of the poison. I am perhaps... too honest with her. She settles next to me and I drift off, a smile on my face as we cuddle together for warmth in the cold wax workshop.

The next time I have her to myself, we are huddled together on a ferry and Jo-hanna has fallen to sleep. The conversation turns to marriage and friendship and I find myself unable to stop the steady thrum of the string pulled tight between us, pulling us closer.  
“Of course your mouth works...” I murmur gently as I reach out to cup her cheek. Her eyes catch mine and my breath hitches as I realize that there is no turning back from this now.  
“May I?” I ask softly, and she nods her head and that is all I need to close the short distance between us and press my lips against hers. Her lips are thin but soft, and I see stars. My lips move purposefully against hers and as I open my mouth I feel her mimic me in response, and I lightly touch our tongues together, the softness of her mouth and the smell of Felicity overtaking my senses. When we part I am nearly panting, a warmth growing in my gut, and I see immediately that I did not have the same effect on her. A pain shoots through me and my insides turn to ice as she confirms her views on the mediocrity of kissing. I let my hand fall away and pull up a cloak, my emotions stinging as I settle back in to our cold journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some short drabbles I can't get out of my head. Also there is no fic with Felicity and Sim and I can't abide by that


	2. Control

“Don't itch.” I warn, and Felicity shoots a glare my way.

“You failed to mention how bloody terrible these pirate marks are” she says sharply, her hand trembling as she holds it above her forearm. I grab her hand in my own and give it a squeeze, smiling at her reassuringly as we walk through the streets of Algiers. Johanna, Monty and Percy had departed just a day or two ago with Scipios crew, and she had all but demanded that we go out to meet these promised doctors. I lead her down the roads, her hand clutched tightly in my own. We finally make it to the home of a doctor I send most of my men to. I introduce us and Felicity needs no encouragement to take over the conversation. She and the doctor take up the next few hours discussing and talking over different things. She challenges him and he comes back at her with counterpoints. The entire conversation is fascinating but after an hour or so I begin to lose patience. I slip my Marlin-knife from its hold and let it air out, to become cooler. Subtly as they speak I begin to run the round spike against her scabs, enjoying the faltering in her words and her composure. Her eyes flutter and she kicks me beneath the table we are seated at. When we leave the doctor she leans into me, scolding me and shoving me about.

“You seemed to enjoy it well enough.” I purr, my mouth against her ear. She blushes and releases my hand, hurrying forward and towards our shared home. I walk in and shut the door behind me. My Felicity looks a bit worn out and tired from the days travels and I move towards making her tea to calm and relax her nerves.

“I appreciate your help with my scabs.” she says, seemingly out of nowhere. I nod and smile, glancing a view at her face and faltering in my rhythm. I do not ask her to elaborate, however, she does look a bit more troubled than I would have expected.

“I've been thinking about this...” she begins, and my spine goes rigid and my blood runs cold, “I told you that I am not... seeking a relationship.” she pauses, I continue to make the tea. “I know what you're doing, Sim.” she ends, leveling a stare that I would never be able to meet. I stir the leaves within the mug and sigh. She is not wrong. Since she agreed to stay in Algiers, I have been liberal in my affections, not asking her what she is comfortable with. I understand what she told me but I have been acting on the spark between us. A spark that, perhaps, has been one sided. But also one that she never rejected. When I look at her I feel my heart swell. When I hold her hand I feel my entire posture straighten, my chin jut out, my eyes meet any man or curious woman with a 'Don't you wish this could be you' type of expression. She continues to tell me that I do not own her, that we are not exclusive, and that everything I have imagined up to this point was exactly that. An imagination of our relationship.

“I love you Felicity.” I say it after she has said her peace and it does shock me but it is not new information. It is exactly what I have thought for months traveling with her, and for even longer when we were separated. I would do anything to get her back, and waiting and biding time had been the most difficult experience I had ever encountered.

“Sim. I love you.” she cups my face in her hands and draws me into her intense gaze. My breath catches and my eyes, curse them, flick to her mouth. I understand my idiocy but still I whisper, 

“May I....?” She sighs and presses our foreheads together, stroking my cheek with the backs of her fingers and nods, pressing her cool lips to my own. 

I work swiftly, my hands encircling her waist and my mouth parting, deepening our kiss. After a few moments her lips go slack and I pull away, confused.

“I love you but... these romantic activities... Sim you must know that they are a chore for me. I will kiss you because I know that it means more to you than it ever will to me but... I need you to let me dictate the affection in this relationship. If that's too difficult for you then just...” she lets go of me and waves vaguely into the air. 'Just take care of it. Can you do that and still come back to me at the end of the night?” My eyes fill with tears and I'm not sure I can comprehend what shes asking of me. I let me hands drop from her body and turn away, and hear her sigh. It is answer enough for now.


	3. Questionable at Best

“You seem lonely.” My gaze flicks up and my eyes meet the woman who spoke to me. I have decided, against my better judgement I might add, to visit a tea house. It is a place, a 'secret' place, where women come to meet each other. While it is a criminal activity, it is generally passed over. After all, the ruling class had long ago decided to let 'women be women' – which means that any affections women show towards each other are simply natural explorations, helping to prepare them for marriage. I had been sitting alone, trying to make sense of a pamphlet Felicity had given to me, and drinking my tea. I had reluctantly agreed to try to 'go out' and 'meet someone' as she had suggested. I did not want anyone but her, no matter how aloof she was to my affections. Yet here I was, because she wanted it. Her needs seemed to tower above my own more and more every day.

“Perhaps...” I mused, lowering my eyelids and smirking at the other woman, “How can you tell?”

“It's your eyes... you seem lost.” she answers, taking a seat next to me without asking. She smiles and her hand reaches across my own. Her skin is cool and dry and she looks deeply into my eyes, “Maybe I could help you... find what you're looking for...” she holds my gaze for a brief moment before smiling shyly and ducking her head away from me.

“I'm not looking to pay anyone.” I answer abruptly and she turns, a horrified expression on her face.

“Oh no I'm... I'm not for hire I just...” her dark cheeks burn with embarrassment and her hand drops, shaking a bit. “I'm sorry I'm just... I'm not sure how these things work. This is my first time here and I saw you and you just looked so beautiful and melancholy...” she lets out a large sigh, her big brown eyes flicking upwards to meet mine. I smirk and chuckle beneath my breath, my hand reaching up, knuckles grazing against her cheek. Her eyes shut and she leans into my touch.

“What is your name?” I ask softly, my face moving closer to her own.

“Hafza...” she says, her voice soft and breathless, her skin warming beneath my touch as she flushes a deeper shade at my attention.

“Hafza.” I repeat, brushing my thumb against her lower lip. Our faces are closer than I had anticipated and her eyes flutter closed. I realize quite abruptly what I am doing and thoughts spin through my mind. This is what Felicity wants for me, a good sweet girl. A girl that will love me for a night, or longer. One that will jump into my arms when I come home, one that greets me with kisses and firm grasps. But I have been playing a game with this poor girl. Even now as our faces draw near, I do not anticipate the meeting of our lips. Not like I have anticipated the infrequent and usually clinical touches of Felicity. I feel no stirring in my chest, and certainly no ache in my core. I can't do it, I can't continue to pretend, and so I abruptly slide back away from her in my seat. Her deep brown eyes fly open and she looks wounded, like an animal struck across the face.

“You are a beautiful girl, Hafza, But you do not want to involve yourself with me.” I state as gently as possible. She opens her mouth to protest and I press my index finger over her beautiful pillowy lips. Her jaw snaps shut and I slowly raise the arm of my kaftan, revealing my pirates mark. Her face is at once a mixture of respect, fear, and intrigue. I realize too late that this was not the deterrent I had hoped for.

“I like a complicated past...” She murmurs, her hand shooting out to grab my forearm and trace against the pattern. A move meant to entice me, draw me back to her, but instead my skin crawls. Felicity had traced my pirates mark not unlike this, comparing hers against mine and scratching at it lightly to see how the inked part of my flesh raised in response. The girls attention is not welcome, and I shake my head softly.

“No... I'm sorry. I'm not the one for you...” I murmur, pulling back my arm and clutching her wrist. “Please... I have to go.” I say, avoiding her gaze. She stares at me for what seems like a million years and sits back into her seat heavily. Faster than a viper she closes the gap between us and presses her lips against mine. I do not fight back nor do I encourage her. After a second she pulls away with a soft smile.

“Whoever she is....” she mumbles, “She's very lucky.” and with that she is up and gone, moving on towards whoever else she plans to seduce. I let out a trembling breath, my lips tingling and cold.

I close my eyes and remind myself to breathe, then down my tea in three large, scalding gulps, and hurry to leave the tea house. The trip back to our home is not long or difficult, but all I can think about is Hafza, and in my imagination I replace her deep brown eyes with eerie blue, her plush lips with the thin line of Felicities. When I open the door to our home the first to greet me is the most recent stray to be picked up by Johanna. I scratch her ears and shoo her, wandering further into the house to see my darling Felicity, her small eyes squinting behind her spectacles at a text in the low light. When I see her I feel the tension drain from my body and I smile softly, settling next to her and burying my nose in her hair.

“You animal!” she gasps, completely offended, “I am reading something extremely important and it requires all of my attention. I cannot have you attacking me just for a nuzzle!” I chuckle and wrap my arms around her, careful to leave her precious study undisturbed. Here, in our shared home, inhaling her scent, I feel right again.

“You will ruin your eyes if you continue to read in such poor conditions.” I chide, “And then what will I do. I will have a blind housekeeper, a girl who can't tell a dog from a lamppost, and what will Johanna think?” I wiggle my fingers, tickling her sides and she laughs, though somehow she still manages to make her laugh sound oh so offended.

“Simmaa Aldijah!” She squeals, pushing me away. I laugh and redouble my efforts, “Little mole woman, bumping into walls!” I tease, wiggling and snuffling my nose at her as she snorts and chortles, encouraging me until she finally connects her boot to my chest. I roll away, winded, and she is suddenly upon me, fretting and laughing.

“No pirate can match your ferocity, Felicity Montague!” I croak, dramatically falling to the floor and grabbing her so that she falls on top of me. We both laugh and look into each others eyes. I know exactly where I want to take this moment, but I have learned in the last several months, and so I just smile and tuck her hair behind her ear. Her laughing comes to a pause and she rolls off of me and onto the floor, hitching up onto her side so we are face to face. Her hand sneaks under my hijab and scratches my short cropped hair and I lean into it.

“You know you're back much sooner than I expected.” she teases, a coy smile on her lips.

“Felicity... I almost think you enjoy teasing me like this.” I smile and the words are almost a joke. Almost. She has a hold over me and I believe she knows it and honestly I believe she relishes in it.

“Pretty girl like you... you probably get loads of attention don't you, Sim?” There's a slight insecurity in her voice and in her face, and I need her to know that I simply cannot go 'take care of' my desires and wants. I would rather be stranded on an island then betray her, even if she insists it is completely okay. Our breathing slows and her fingers are still scratching my scalp. I groan and lean my head down against her neck.

“Yes, and unfortunately none of them seems to be able to torture me so well. I am hungry for punishment.” I sigh, bemoaning my situation. Felicity only scoffs and shoves me playfully.

“If you're looking for pity, Johanna's in the other room. Poor lamb, sweet wounded thing.” she coos at me, standing up and offering her hand. I take it and stand, leaning in and swiftly placing a kiss on her forehead, an action which causes her to squawk indignantly and brings me great joy. “Animal!” she repeats, shoving me out of the room. I smile and fall back into our kitchen, lighting the stove to make myself busy with dinner. It is a few minutes later when she wanders into the room, sniffing at the air.

“That smells good” she comments, coming to my side. I finish taking a sip from the spoon and look at her innocently “Would you like a taste?” I ask, dropping the spoon into the pot.

“Yes please, SIM!” her cry is drowned as I press my mouth against hers and her hands reflexively wrap around my shoulders. Despite her cry she licks her tongue against my lips and I allow her to taste me, smiling into the kiss. She pulls back, smacking her palate and looking at once furious and interested.

“That was not an invitation, Sim, and your methods are questionable, at best. But... yes, the soup does taste quite good.”

 

 


	4. Let Me Try For You

 

 

This is not the first time I have done this. My chest rises up and down rapidly as my fingers work, one hand clamped around my mouth as the other works diligently on my dripping sex. I have never been with a man, but I do know what I like. When I first discovered this, it was a secret. Never spoken about or alluded to. But now that I have lived with Felicity, it is different.

It began when she threw open my door, worried for my well being after hearing some “Concerning Noises”. After much blushing and apologizing and weeks of avoidance, she finally came to me and asked if she could observe. She had never seen this, and had only briefly played with herself(“I don't see what the fuss is all about honestly” she had said with a roll of her eyes), and wanted to notate the effects and the process. I quietly agreed.

I would lay out on our bed, closing my eyes while my hands and fingers traveled along my body, biting one hand and rolling my nipple between the fingers of my other as I worked myself up. When I felt that intense _need_ I would reach between my legs and gently cup myself, caressing my sex until I finally became undone. During this process Felicity would watch me and while the first time it had taken me nearly twice the time to reach my crescendo, I now don't know how I would be able to continue if she decided she was bored and stopped watching me.

It was during one of these sessions when I felt her hand upon my knee and my eyes shot open, breath coming even faster as I was shaken from my reprieve. She looked at me with those calculating eyes, the look she had when she was studying, or thinking, or faced with a particularly intense problem.

“Will you let me try it? For you?” she asked, her voice insecure and shy. My wide eyes relaxed and a lazy smile formed on my face. I nodded once and brought my left hand to my mouth, biting my knuckle. My right hand ceased its ministrations and worked its way to my breasts, kneading and pinching them as I close my eyes.

My back arched and I gasped as I felt foreign fingers descend roughly, jarring and sharp against my most sensitive center.

“Stop!” I gasped, legs slamming shut, completely overstimulated. I cursed in my native tongue and panted, looking at her shocked expression. “Gently... please.” Her hand returned slowly and it was slick, with spit or my own arousal, it did not matter. On her return she was careful and soft, barely brushing the pads of her fingers through my folds, pausing as she lifted my swollen maidenhead. I moaned to encourage her but she did not seem to take the hint, still too soft and feathery, and so I reached down, grabbed her hand and pushed down on her fingers until I determined the correct amount of pressure. A soft inhale of breath came from her and I smiled, groaning, as I undulated against her fingers.

“Gentle... but not..” I moaned slightly as she applied more pressure “Not too hard ...on that part.”

Felicity was a quick study. Within minutes there was a fine sheen of sweat across my skin and her fingers had sped up to the perfect pace, which is why it was so frustrating when she pulled them away. I choked out a small cry of disappointment and my eyes flew open to look at her in what I hoped was a very petulant stare.

“My wrist hurts” she said plainly. I groaned, throwing my head in a pillow and thrusting my hips desperately against the mattress, my own hand working quickly to bring me to finish.

It did not happen often that she would come and watch, and then only occasionally that she requested to assist me. One day, mid touch, she stopped... earlier than normal. I look at her quizzically and her pale skin flushed red from head to toe.

“Can I...” her voice dropped so low I almost had to lean in to hear her, “I know that fellatio requires mouth to genital contact and I was wondering if...”, my breath catches, “if I could.... try with my mouth. Purely for scientific study, of course!” the last bit is added vehemently and assuredly, as if this is all some kind of experiment for her. In all honestly, it probably is, entirely academic. I nod twice, and can feel the heat rising up from my groin to my neck in anticipation.

My eyes close, my fingers tracing familiar paths and I stiffen as I feel her warmth between my thighs. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until she places a tentative kiss on my most sensitive of places and I gasp, my eyes flying open. I look down and see her wrinkling her nose.

“You can stop,” I gasp, my sex twitching at the feel of her hot breath, “if you want to.” it's the hardest I've ever pushed down my feelings for her, my absolute need to ravish her and for her to ravish me. I do not, however, wish for her to be uncomfortable. She shakes her head, resolute, and I see the slight pink of her tongue between her lips before I push my head back into our pillows. Stars and colors and shapeless forms explode behind my eyelids when I feel her soft, velvety, tongue caress me. I cry out unintentionally and my hips buck on their own into her mouth. She pauses slightly, and I can imagine the confused and unsure look on her face, but then she presses forward, lapping at my sex as if I am a well and she has not tasted water for months.

I am vaguely aware of the embarrassing noises I am making. Small yips and deep moans as she works against me. When her tongue slips _inside_ of me, I howl. She does not hesitate again but continues to work her mouth against and inside of me and I am a moaning, crumbling mess by the end of it. She works me over the top and continues, despite my whines and cries of over stimulation. I crash over the edge thrice more before she stops, her own breath labored and short.

“Felicity” I purr, my hips still rising in time with her strokes, “Come here... _Please_ ” my request is strained but she acquiesces, shimmying her completely clothed body up my naked frame.

“May I.... may I kiss you?” I ask between breaths as I stroke her cheek. She wrinkles her nose again and looks a bit perturbed, but I catch her chin in my fingers and force her to look at me, the smell of myself thick between us.

“I'm not sure if you really want to do that at this point, I mean, you can, but it is quite disgus-” I cut her off with a passionate kiss, our mouths moving against each other. Her patience for kissing has improved, and while she prefers to keep kisses chaste, she works passionately against my mouth as I am indulged. She tastes like me, like all the times I have plunged my fingers inside of myself and curiously tasted them afterwards. It is a heavy and delicious scent when it is mixed with her own and arouses me more than it should. I swing my legs around her and pin her to the mattress as we continue our kiss, but her hand comes up to rest on my naked shoulder.

“Please, no. I'm... I'm fine. We can kiss a little longer if you'd like to.” she says, breath shaky. I sigh but lower my body, my hips still thrusting against her as I come down from my high.

“As you want, Felicity.” I breathe, capturing her mouth and her sweet, sweet tongue between my lips. It is still hard to realize that she does not require or particularly enjoy these activities, but I love her, in all of her strangeness, and if she does not want to experience the same pleasure she has given me then I will not force her to understand.

Instead I thrust against her thigh until my arousal calms, and then curl around her. I feel her stiffen and then melt in my embrace, her face resting between my breasts as I fall into a deep slumber.

 

 

 


	5. I'll Always Return to You

It had been days but it seems as if it could have been months – even years. I have heard stories of being stranded as sea, but never been unfortunate enough to deal with it myself. My head scarf is unwrapped and draped across my face, my arms limp, one hand dipped in the coolness of the ocean as I wait for death.

There had been a fight, a fight that my crew and I had lost. I had pulsing, angry injuries from the fight, and I'm sure in my side, a bullet is still lodged. The last thing I remember was being shoved into the small dinghy and dropped into the ocean, losing consciousness as the boat hit the water and my head connected the wooden floor.

When I woke up, there was no ship or land in sight. There were two skins of water in the vessel and some emergency rations. The dinghy had one oar and a sail, but the mast was ruined, and I was too weak to be of any use. I could tell my lips were already cracked and my skin burned. The wounds in my side throbbed and stung angrily, I couldn't even feel one of my arms – it appeared to be a shred of tissue and bone. There was nothing I could do. I created a makeshift tent with the tattered mast, the oar and the sail to cover my skin, otherwise scanning the sea for a sign of passing vessels. I coughed and choked and thought only of the things I would never see again.

It was maybe day 8, or day 30, when my body was thrown across the dinghy like a bag of potatoes. At first I thought the world was spinning around me, until I realized I was being hoisted to the deck of a shipping vessel. I heard voices all around me and hands pulling me out of the ship, shouts, exclamations. I tried to speak but no noise passed from my lips, and instead I faint.

The following weeks are spent in and out of consciousness and bouts of pain. When I was finally well enough to maintain consciousness, I took stock of my body and saw that my arm with my pirates mark had been amputated. When I asked, they had told me that it was infected with disease and to be grateful I had kept as much as I had left, about a half of my arm above the elbow. 

I spent the next week in a cot, regaining my strength in my legs, slowly moving from my cot to one side of the room to the other. It was a monumental feat. When they had asked me where I was headed I told them the name of my town. They saw me as an unfortunate soul, someone to be pitied, having no idea of my true identity. I let them. I was too weak to handle anything else.

When the ship docked in Algiers, I thanked the crew for their assistance and began the slow shuffling walk back home. It felt like it took years, but eventually I was standing in front of our home. I raised my hand and knocked as strongly as I could, one arm bracing myself against the doorway to keep from falling over.

I hear a voice behind the door, admonishing a mutt from getting too close, telling it to shoo, and my eyes are instantly wet. The door opens and a very petulant Felicity stares at me. Her face goes a shade of white I could never have draemed to be possible and her mouth drops open.

“SIM!” the shriek penetrates my senses, my mind reeling with the high pitched noise. I feel familiar hands grasp my face, feeling me all over, light and dancing, pressing in certain places and I groan. “Felicity... I told you... I'll always come home.” I can hear the sound of her sniffing as she gathers me in an embrace, I can feel the dampness on her face as she presses her cheek to mine, holding me in a strong grip as if I will float away if she lets go. In one quick move she pulls me inside, slams the door shut, and then presses me against it, her lips claiming mine in a breathtaking kiss.

“I knew I could get you to kiss me someday...” I wheeze, a laugh in my voice. She coughs out a laugh and shoves me lightly, then her lips are back against mine, moving across my eyelids, my cheeks. She strokes her hands down my arms, and jumps back when she finds the end of my stump.

“Simaah...” she whispers, and I'm pleased to see a brief look of panic and grief before that brilliant mind of hers kicks in and she's unwrapping my half-arm, inspecting the healed wound. She 'hmmm's and clucks over it and then she's dragging me back to the bedroom where she orders me to strip. I laugh and remove my outer garments, but refuse to let her poke and prod me.

“How long I've waited for you to say that.” I chuckle before moving towards the bed. “I'm tired, Felicity, let me rest.” she looks properly admonished, a blush creeping across her face as she watches me. Allahu Akbar, it feels even better than I remember.

I feel a dip in the mattress and arms snake around me from behind, nudging me to turn over. I roll to face her and wrap my good arm around her. Her eyes and smile are watery, and I taste salt when she kisses me again.

“Sim I thought... Your father told me what had happened and thought....” my smile is strained and I thumb away a freshly fallen tear from her face.

“I'll never leave you behind. I'll always come back to you. I promise.” I whisper. I shrug and tuck my head into her neck, breathing her in, fatigue washing over me.

“Good, I'm never letting you out of my sights again. I hope you know that.” she says resolutely. I smile, closing my eyes and pressing my lips against her neck in a chaste kiss.

“I love you, Sim.”

“I love you as well, Felicity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was really just a very self indulgent set of drabbles I couldn't get out of my head. And as I said - this ship needs. more. love.

**Author's Note:**

> Just some short drabbles I can't get out of my head. Also there is no fic with Felicity and Sim and I can't abide by that. Smut(?) eventually.


End file.
